


when morning comes

by CeliaBlair24



Series: blue bellies [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang Died, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Character Death, Denial, Gen, I'm Sorry, Katara is really sad, Kinda, POV Katara (Avatar), Suki doesn't talk in this, Super Depressing now that i think about it, Toph Beifong and Zuko are Siblings, What-If, Zuko is quiet, it's complicated - Freeform, kinda heavy, the fire nation won, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2020-06-29 17:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19835221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeliaBlair24/pseuds/CeliaBlair24
Summary: Aang's dead, and the remainder of the Gaang are forced to flee the Caldera before Ozai returns.*Picks up just after "for a moment"





	1. to flee

She sat among sun dappled grass along the yawning banks of a weeping stream, eyes resting on the curve of red-orange where the sun spread from beyond the distant horizon. Fingers splayed before her, cold water and summer humidity forming crystallites above upturned palms, and for a moment, she could almost feel at peace.

“You’re calm,”

Blue eyes turn to stare at ashen feet, the green of battle clothes she’d stitched herself just two nights before. There was a tenseness to the muscle there, the tight curl of soot-covered toes and skin that pulled taut over the curve of short calves.

“Hey, Toph.”

Silence, at first. Katara turns back to stare at the horizon, where the blue of the ocean meets the blue of the sky, the sun still so slow in its ascent.

“Sweetness.”

A hand brushes her arm, stubby dirt-crusted fingers gripping onto the swell of bandages where heated metal chains were lucky enough to sear. Toph doesn’t say much afterwards, shuffles til her knees meet Katara’s thighs and leans back the same way she does, toes just barely submerged in stream-water.

“It’s pretty out here,”

Katara says, eyes on flowering plants she couldn’t hope to name. Wide-petalled, and beautiful, the colors of sun and fire; near nothing like the saxifrage that grew above melting ice by midsummer bearberries, or the pasque flowers Mom used to collect to decorate her hair, those long summers when the ice melted just a _little more_ , and the welcome heat gave way for something more delicate within the southern tundra. She sighs, crystallized water dispersing.

“Is Zuko alright?”

An odd silence from Toph, not incredibly long, but just long enough for Katara to suspect….

“He’s still talking to Azula,”

A short pause. Pale eyes look beyond the trickling stream, to where turtleducklings clamber along the rocky alcove by the garden walls.

“Sokka’s there waiting for him, he didn’t really say anything about it, but I know he’s _scared_ of Azula.”

A wry smirk that didn’t quite catch her brows the way it usually would. Katara tried to smile along anyway, weary of water-damped feet and fingers that tug through clamping grass and mist-drizzled dirt.

“But Zuko’s okay?”

Like a nattering in her head, memories of those short minutes she’d spent within Fire Princess’ chambers. Zuko and Azula shoulder to shoulder, the arrogant quirk of Azula’s lips when she’d first pulled back the curtain. _‘Peasant,’_ a cold welcome, like ice-water in a furnace. Dampening and ruining, and all she could do was watch and listen and try to understand _how_ —

“Far as I can tell,”

Toph draws back wet feet, plants them firmly against the grassy bank.

“Huh, seems like him and the crazy princess finally settled things.”

She sits up, hands spread out beside her. Dark brows furrow.

“Oh,”

Katara gives her a look, long and confused.

“Oh? What do you mean, _oh_?”

Toph purses her lips, pale eyes watering.

“ _Toph??”_

Toph shakes her off, hands coming up to wrap around her own shoulders, like there’d been a chill in the humidity of the morning breeze. She tries not to be hurt by it, _tries really_ , but….

“N-no, it’s fine, Katara. _He’s_ fine.”

She sighs, more shudder than air. Unseeing eyes glued onto her feet, toes wiggling free of dirt, her heels dipping once more into cool stream water.

“Then why—“

Toph stops her with an outstretched hand, grubby fingers a ways from her eyes.

“No, nuh-uh, you don’t get to ask me to do that!”

Katara frowns some, digging her palms into damp soil as she tries to clamp down surging irritation _—!_

“… _Toph?”_

It’s Suki, running across cherry wood flooring like the spirits themselves were lapping at her heels. She had a bag in hand, some rope in the other. Though she’d seen them (she _had_. Their eyes had met briefly, blue against a darker blue, one worried and one determined enough to catch a flame on the wind, and Suki _had_ nodded at them) she didn’t stop running, setting a blazing trail towards towering oak-wood doors by the very end of the hall.

“Huh.”

Toph frowns, sightless eyes turning upwards.

There’s a chittering from where spindly cherry blossom and maple leaves tangled in a mesh of forest-green by the arching rooftops, something like Momo nibbling at a peachapple, or Sokka hacking at old wood. Katara looks up, too, tries to spot whatever it was through the strengthening blare of morning sunlight and the otherwise bush of the greenery.

Nothing.

“Zuko’s with Sokka,”

Toph says suddenly, already on her feet again.

“What?”

A sudden gale from the pulsing sea, salt thick on summer breeze. Katara takes a breath, even as it seems Toph is set on moving.

“What about _Azula_?”

The earthbender makes a gesture, one small flick of her fingers that has stream-stones rumbling.

“She’s in her room, quiet.”

And that’s never really been a good thing. Katara gets up as well, dusts off the dirt clinging still to her dress. The sun is a little brighter now, the sky a clearer, lighter blue. The heat came sharp with a little more than just humidity.

“Where are we headed?”

There was no shouting, no sudden bursts of fire and lightning. But they could never be too sure. Waterskin filled to brimming, bandages tight were wounds could no longer heal. They had little time, and with how they’d wasted it— well, they were packed and ready to take off, if Appa could hold (and he would, he _would_ ) they could make it to the Western Air Temple before Azula could gather strength enough to shoot them out of the sky. With Zuko injured and the moon gone and—and _Aang…._

_Breathe Katara. Breathe._

“Where are we headed?”

She asks again, calmer this time. Toph regards her with narrowed, too-pale eyes.

“Zuko’s— his heart’s acting wonky. Not like before, when we’d arrived the first time,”

She pauses, more to gather herself than to add dramatics. Her voice sounded _so small…_ she licks dry lips, pulls herself together enough to just _speak_.

“He’s sad… I dunno why,”

Except _she did,_ they _all_ did _._

“But whatever Azula said, it _got_ to him.”

A small, clenched fist. Tears stream down pale cheeks, one slow trickle at a time. It’s not something she would normally allow, but when Katara draws her into a hug, Toph doesn’t fight it, _not really._

“Sokka’s tryna calm him down, but you know how Sokka is,”

 _We have to go._ Unsaid, but it didn’t need to be. Sokka wasn’t good at feelings, not like Katara was. And with how unstable Zuko was, health and otherwise, yeah. They needed to go, _now_.

“I swear,”

Katara mumbles, hand around Toph’s as they quickly peeled through long, empty palace halls, towards the courtyard where Appa was being watched over by Iroh’s remaining White Lotus contacts.

“I swear if she did anything to him, I’ll _kill_ her.”

And Katara would not cry, even if her lips trembled and her eyes stung with the force of withheld tears. She wouldn’t give Azula, the _firelord_ the satisfaction of seeing her crumble, even if they couldn’t see her at all. Even if it hurt to hold it in, even if the very air felt like fire she was forced to _breathe—_

_“Sweetness,”_

Grubby hands squeeze her own.

“I’m okay,”

She says quietly, breathing in the coolness of sea-touched summer air as she and Toph broke into the courtyard.

“Katara!”

A low, long grumble.

Appa. Zuko resting in the saddle, Sokka by Appa’s head, Suki somewhere… _somewhere_ ….

“Are you both alright?”

Her eyes land on Zuko, one arm over his eyes, the other clutching at the fabric above his chest. Sokka smiles, a crooked thing that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You wouldn’t believe what happened!”

Toph breaks away from her then, walks up to where Sokka is, hands on her hips. Whatever it was Sokka was about to tell her, it’s lost in the face of Toph’s stare, and, like always, they burst into argument. Waving hands and screeching words and she sees Zuko shuffling off to the back of the saddle, wincing even though he probably (most likely) didn’t want to.

“Hey,”

She climbs into the saddle, rests a hand over his arm before he accidentally pushes himself back onto the courtyard. He startles, then winces again with the sudden movement. Katara tries to smile.

“Let me help with that.”

A water gloved hand breezes over white-wrapped flesh, pulling at knots in chi and blood and trying, _trying_ to mend.

_Not enough, not even close to enough._

“I’ll try again when we’re up in the air.”

Zuko nods some, bleary pale gold eyes just _barely_ open.

“Thanks ‘tara,”

He slurs, patting her gently on the wrist. There’s a smile there, somewhere, hidden by pale features, the pull of exhaustion she was _sure_ he could feel.

“Anyway!”

Her brother, loud and disconcertingly excited.

“You’ll never guess what,”

“You said that already!”

Toph, seven feet of stomped dirt in the air. Her lips were pursed, jaw set in that way _younger kids_ did when they had to swallow a catowl of complaints and try to mend socks cos Gran-gran didn’t have the time to help them out with it.

Maybe Sokka had been stringing her along a good enough while.

“Sokka, what do you mean?”  
Blue eyes, not quite smiling, but not as sad as they had been.

“Well, you see here,”

She hears it before she sees it, a whirl of steel on steel; the familiar puff of heated air.

“Azula decided to be a nice sister and let us a parting gift.”

Not as large as the war balloons, but dark like the night sky and bare of any nation insignia.

“What…”

Toph blinks from beside Appa, tumbling into the saddle with a caterwaul that sounded something like _“cheese”_ but was maybe just muffling fabric and the squish of the saddle against her lips.

“She didn’t lie after all.”

Not Sokka, nor Toph. She looks down, where she was sure Zuko had dozed off.

“Damn Sparky, how’d you convince her?”

Gold eyes didn’t look back at her. Stuck on the airship like they would be stuck on fire, those long, sleepless nights she’d spent on the beachside, when he’d been just as awake as her, but was never aware she was ever there.

“I didn’t.” 


	2. appa's gone

The fire burns long into the night.

Katara watches, as enraptured as she could ever be. Crackling flames in summer-wrapped air. Sea salt on the breeze, in the faint drizzle of rain. Pulsing red nearly white at its ends. She doesn’t think to look further than that. _Closer_ than that. 

“Are you going to bed, Sparky?”

Green beyond the smoke curling through the air, Toph’s voice a quiet warble she can barely understand. Katara shifts quietly back, centuries-old tiles scarping roughly against her fingers.

“Not for a while.”

Zuko, voice almost as quiet. Katara looks over the flame to where Toph stands bent over, fingers curled into the hems of Zuko’s robe sleeves, toes crunching into the dirt, not-quite-solid, proud. Zuko smiles, wane and as sad as she feels.

“Do you want to sleep?”

Toph nods, but doesn’t make leave.

Katara moves closer….

“What about Appa?”

Pauses.

Zuko sighs, the fire crackling before him brightening a little more.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, you can stay right here.”

His words are soft, delicate in a way they have never been— not around Katara, at least. But Katara had always known Zuko had a soft spot for Toph, even if he never said it. She watches as he wraps an arm around Toph’s shoulders, tucking her into his side.

“You can stay right here,”

Pale gold eyes look up, catch Katara’s over the heat of the flames.

Look away.

“We can man the fire together.”

“Hey little sis,”

Sokka’s eyes brown in the shadow of the fire, dark like water-whirled mud. He sits beside her, knee brushing her ankle, an odd coolness in his gaze.

“Suki’s in the airship, fixing things up. There’s enough fuel there to take us to Ba Sing Se, so we don’t have to worry about that.”

Katara nods mutely. Words, she couldn’t grasp them, not now, not really. They slipped away like spring water, clogging her throat and the air around her. She’s stop trying to bend them out hours ago. It… hurt to speak. To use them. Every utter felt like a lie.

“Zuko must be tired.”

Sokka looks over to where Zuko and Toph are curled into one another, Zuko hunched almost to his knees, staring unblinkingly into the fire. Toph’s asleep now, head on his lap, still facing the open flame. Katara turns to her brother, words like ice, frozen on the tip of her tongue. Swallows shallowly, the salt in the air so-so bitter.

“H-how…long…?”

Her voice is hoarse, like desert storms and coarse sand. She swallows again, as if the imagined wind would wash the ice away.

Sokka frowns. Tugs her a little closer.

“A couple hours, at least.”

His hand is cool against her side, like meltwater. His voice is a little cooler, brittle like the first frosting of winter. When he looks at her, he looks older; doesn’t look like Sokka at all.

“You should rest.”

He says, running a hand through her unbound hair the way he used to do when they’d been younger, when she’d cry about Mom and Dad hadn’t been there to see to her. But this wasn’t that type of sadness, even if the pit in her stomach felt the same.

Katara pulls away.

“I… I have to go check something. I’ll be right back.”

The fire crackles behind her, unyielding. Sokka lets her leave.

* * *

Morning comes slowly, the sun a pinpoint at the very edge of the night’s darkness. It feels like a century has passed, and she moves like she’d been frozen over, bones as brittle and cold as she felt.

Her Gran, when she’d been a little younger, used to tell her stories about this, because Katara had lost her Mom and all children who’ve lost should know such things. She’d tell her about yawning dark and the forever-falls of water, how the smallest spraying droplet could feel like an ocean. _“That’s how sadness is,”_ she used to say _“every reminder feels like it’d happened all over again.”_

Of course, Katara had understood that only too well. Sadness like ice, frosting and freezing, a chill winter breeze that blew and blew and never left, not really. Her Gran used to tell her it was only natural.

There was nothing natural about this.

Water calls to her heart, the eddying temple streams and trickling waterfalls. She feels it in the clouds swelling beyond the reach of the temple, stringing pillows of white she had bent once, a lifetime ago, when Aang was here to help her, guide her. She remembers his smile, his happiness as the sun peeks over the horizon, blazing reds and yellows like the fire from last night, warm but not to her. Maybe not ever again.

“Katara,”

Sleep rough, strained like she’d never heard it before. Katara turns.

“The sunrise here is beautiful,”

Zuko’s smile is a memory of last night, forcing Katara to turn away.

“Good morning, Zuko.”

He approaches her but doesn’t sit. She feels his presence behind her like a long shadow, there yet a world away. She hears him chuckle, low and in a way she couldn’t read. When he speaks up again, his words carry with the morning breeze.

“The last time I was here, I wanted to capture the Avatar. I thought I’d do anything to find him. I wanted to _go home_.”

There’s something in the way he speaks, like a string being pulled taut, thinner and thinner the longer he went on.

Still looking over the edge of the temples arch, Katara pats the space beside her and waits for him to sit.

“The last time I was here, all I wanted was to learn how to bend. Maybe… maybe help Aang a little bit.”

Zuko hunches over, fingers gripping the bend in the stone bricks. He doesn’t look up at the mention of Aang, not like she would have. He only looks on into the distance.

“I could have killed him, you know.”

Water calls to her like a lost child, circling her fingers and dripping from her eyes. She doesn’t speak, and the silence between them is a loudness in itself. Zuko chuckles again, humorless.

“He tried to _kill_ me with lightning.”

A hand above his bandaged chest, as near as he could get to his heart. Trembling like a leaf in the wind, seconds from tearing away.

“Why…”

Katara tastes the words before she says them, such bitter things they were. They burned her in ways fire never could.

“Why tell me this?”

She asks instead.

Zuko shrugs.

“If I did it, Aang would be here.”

Katara takes a long breath in, gripping her thundering heart with shaking hands. When she turns to look at him, Zuko’s eyes are as far away as she feels.

“And where would you be?”

The sun reaches out to them in flaking yellows and pinks, brightening the temple and the space between them. Zuko smiles, cold but not unsure.

“Somewhere.”

He says, straightening up as he speaks. His words are a whisper in the breeze, thin and here and gone.

Zuko stands.

“Your brother said it’d be better if we left early. My… the Firelord will need time to regroup, so it’ll be safer for us to leave as soon as possible.”

Katara nods once, watching as Zuko slowly begins to head away. There’s a limp in his step, still, and he’s shaking, even though he’d told her before how hard it was for him to get cold.

“Are you okay, Zuko?”

Zuko barely pauses in his steps, and the way he answers.

“We have to go, Katara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there will be more parts to this series. Oneshots, mostly, since I'm still debating whether or not to make a full blown chaptered fic (Yeah, as you can see, I got... a lot of projects already waha). Though, I mean, people change their minds and all that, so maybe in the future. We'll see.  
> -Celia


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